House of Shards
by Lord Basileus
Summary: Harry Potter returns to Britain forgotten and with his reputation tarnished by his own past. His exile changed him and not exactly for the better.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter characters, books etc. in any way... J. K. Rowling does and I just use her world for a bit of storytelling.**

_This story is loosely inspired by one of the greatest classics of BBC drama- House of Cards. I hope that those better versed in the art of English language will take this as a humble attempt to honour it, not botch it up. Since I've never read the books (which is very rare with my book first approach) I can only imagine what language was used and how the storyline was introduced to the reader. Like it ? Hate it? Looking forward to your reviews.

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**_House of Shards_**

**Chapter I: The Prodigal Son Returns**

In which

_Harry tries a bit of philosophy-Harry reminisces about the past-Shacklebolt says his goodbyes- Woes of being Chief Warlock unfold- No comments are given

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Nothing lasts forever. Even the most vicious tyranny is swept away by the ceaseless and never aging time and replaced by something else. I stress the word 'something' in my statement for it does not mean that the ways of conduct in the political arena will change for the better.

Too often is mob that wrestled away the shackles of power from terrible monster that wielded them encouraged to destroy everything that creature used to drain some blood. Too often people destroy everything that was before and plunge the country into new darkness.

You may ask how I know all this; where in my feverish mind I have stumbled across this information. Trust me then as I say that you cannot trust me. Know then that you will never know.

What? My name? I cannot see how it could do any harm. Oh, do I see your lips twitching in sudden recognition of my familiar features? Do I smile politely as your eyes widen when you hear my bitter words? You would not expect me to say them, yet I do, but not out loud, of course. Lord Harry of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter and your representative in the Wizengamot at your service.

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And here they come- old lions, witty thieves, rugged brutes and all are very eager to get Shacklebolt's place. How long will it take? The man was practically the hero that got us out of slump. He had ridden the wave of nausea that followed after the war discoveries of pureblood atrocities. Now, he is leaving the office with nearly hundred percent approval rates.

Tabloids hail him as someone who always listened to people. Someone who looked out for them and made their lives easier. Someone, who passed legislature to abolish hereditary status of the Wizengamot. Someone, who stood firmly and helped when Harry Potter decided to run away.

My supposed retreat was, of course, something they could have expected- one does not simply win the war and then launch himself into politics without taking a short break. I admit that seven years is no short time, but I did not spend them frolicking and sleeping. No, I have laid the seeds of knowledge that will be ripe one day. Maybe soon, maybe in few years, but thing is that they will be; of that I am absolutely certain.

"Look what cat dragged in from the outside! Potty, Potty why in the hell have you come back?"

Draco Malfoy, how easily people forget. How easily can they change should proper incentive present itself; if he is doing this after all these years I can be certain that much had not change in Malfoy Manor. It is actually a pity for it presents only less challenge for man like me.

"Lord Malfoy, how pleasant to see your face after all these long years and seeing that your contribution to conversation is still as interesting as it was back then." I give the bastard a cheeky smile. It is highly improper to show one's emotions and I can clearly see how the House of Malfoy managed to fall so low.

"I would spent some more time in your company, but the time is money and I leave you with my condolences to your mother- your father's death must have been a tragedy for her. I would spend more time catching up with you, but I am not that sentimental." I tap brim of my hat with cane and leave gaping Malfoy heir behind me. It wouldn't be a Draco though, should he not fire last one on me when I am not facing him.

His hissing sounds slightly like:" Have a nice day beggar."

As I hinted, the man has no bottom and no manners. Those who know the higher society will tire quickly from his angry and petty outbursts.

Oh, I see. You are a bit interested in my current financial situation. Well, it is certainly not that bad. Otherwise, how would I afford these silk robes and dragon leather boots? It is not that good either. Why else would someone like me become a politician? You heard how this came to be? You knew that Potter's were well off? I guess I cannot avoid it. You are my voters after all and I have to repay you the favour, in a way.

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_June 1999_

_I have never regretted my return to an extra seventh year in my beloved Hogwarts. Perhaps I should have, but at least it showed everyone's true colours._

"_I am sorry Ginny I cannot marry you, "said I as my fingers fiddled with the old circular glasses and winced a bit as my girlfriend stabbed me with her pale finger._

"_I don't mean that I don't want to marry at all, but please be reasonable. Look at our age."_

"_Ron and Luna are getting married; I don't exactly see your point Mister! Don't you love me? I had hoped that this was all you wanted- family, children." She sobbed angrily._

"_Ron and Luna are star struck fools Gin. They are completely enamoured with each other. You can see that ever since we rescued her from Malfoy Manor. You know that I sometimes act like git, but I've never had a chance to enjoy life like others do; this is my only ticket to a bit of freedom." Instant knowledge that my words were ill chosen struck me into face._

"_So you're leaving me? Leaving because you want to run around, fuck some bimbo and then crawl back to me, because I'll be loyally waiting for you the whole time you are enjoying this holiday of yours?"_

"_Ginny, I am not leaving you! You can go with me; hell__,__ I want you to go with me! Don't you understand __it__? I still love you!"_

"_Do you really? Then what is there to choose? Stay with us and help George to cope, stay with me and build a home. We can go on vacation later when everything is prep..."Stop Gin, you already told me this. I cannot stay, I am choking and I must go as soon as possible."_

"_Then go! Go and know this Harry James Potter- you will regret your decisions! I am sick and tired of you running away from your problems!"_

"_I killed that problem nearly a year ago! Be reasonable Ginny. I deserve a bit of break."_

"_You can have all the break you want, "she rose and stormed off back to the castle."_

_I thought that would be the end of us. I was right in a sense. Imagine my surprise when I picked up the Prophet, a fortnight later and read the main headline-HARRY POTTER- THE SCARLET SCOUNDREL.

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_September 1999_

"_Harry James Potter, Head of the Houses Potter and Black what do you have to say to your defence? What conclusive evidence can you give to prove that you have not taken virginity of Ginevra Molly Weasley under false pretence of wanting marriage and left her afterwards, when her bride price had been greatly diminished due to your prior actions?" They pulled a fast one. Shacklebolt's legislative plan for that year hadn't changed anything in old family laws and I was once again a favourite monster for everyone to gawk at. What a marvellous sight. _

"_Honourable court, Lord Law, I admit that I have truly took Ms. Wesley's innocence, but I wasn't the one who wanted to separate. My only intention was to leave for a year and then return to marry her. Honourable court is certainly aware of a strain put onto me by terrible and grim war we all fought in." I hated the fact that I used that particular trick back then. I was a foolish boy after all. Well maybe in love is more accurate. What a fool's errand._

"_However that may be truthful the fact that you have broken the law stands." I was shocked. "The Burke's Statute wording and the judicial customs clearly state that wizard who leaves the witch to whom he promised a marriage impure will be punished by paying monetary compensation in pure gold and thirty lashes of shame."_

_I am not that versed in this particular legislature, Lord Law, but the Muggleborn Act enacted last year forbids any kind of physical retribution to be taken __on__ the accused." I studied, I Harry Potter had read a nice stack of volumes and at that moment felt what power knowledge brings._

"_However that may be, Lord Potter I will still stress the moral damage to the Ms. Weasley and compensation you will have to pay her, should all the accusations made by the plaintiff be proved."_

"_I understand Lord Law, honourable court." I bowed to the bastards. Last time I bowed to anything or anyone._

"_Court will now leave to take counsel." They left and I was still facing scowling Ginny, scorned woman I intended to marry. Hermione was helping her. Why? I don't think I will ever know. The thing is that I don't want to. Probably just ashamed of me, as nearly everyone else. I was standing stoically, observing the intricate pattern of the carved wooden ceiling, when the judges returned._

"_Defendant Lord Harry James Potter, stand up and hear our judgment._

_By the laws and customs given to us by our great forefathers and in the light of your service in fight against the dark art users, we award you a penalty of one million Galleons as we find you guilty of callous crime against honour and morality. Money will be awarded to the victim Ginevra Molly Weasley. So mote it be." _

I was stunned. No one was ever robbed so easily, with simple strike of a gavel. I left in a hurry. No comments for the press.

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So you see from where my bitterness is coming from. Revenge? No, no... I just want to serve and offer my years of experience and knowledge in magical disciplines to the government. I admit the post brings some pleasures, but I am not a man who needs, how did she put it, blonde bimbos to be satisfied. I hold no grudges against these petty people; their only crime is, after all, being a nice herd of docile sheep, and those are everywhere.

It was a gasp of surprise that greeted me in the hall; few scorning remarks were added, nothing I cannot endure. Some of them are whispering and pointing fingers, how lovely to know that some things simply do not change. I just brushed away hair on my forehead to make the old scar visible.

"My lords and ladies, I give you Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt." There was a roar of approval and wave of polite clapping. I decided to sit next to Susan Bones. She grew a lot since I've seen her and awarded me with a polite smile, everything for the former hero of the Wizarding world.

Tall black man stood up and started carefully written speech. How can we say no to the last farewell?

"Everyone knows that I never wanted to become a politician. I have always thought myself rather man of action than the one who has to plan the action, get the seal of approval and writ of arrest. This approach, however, helped me to rebuild the British Wizarding government and our world in eight years I spent in office." Another round of applause- booming, rising, alive. Shacklebolt waited a moment and then cut the sound with his hand- silence fell nearly immediately.

"We have changed the way of politics- no longer it a shabby dealing full of corruption and embezzlement. We have not only set limit to the politician's powers by abolition of hereditary Wizengamot, but also made lords and ladies criminally accountable for any crime they commit. I can honestly say that we are all equal." Nice lines, deep voice to carry them across; the man had probably found himself. It is shame to let him leave. Well, certainly shame for some.

"We have built a solid economy and our coffers are overflowing with wealth. Our merchants and craftsmen are well received throughout the world. Anti-discrimination laws we have passed through this chamber changed status of many Muggleborns that are no longer leaving because of the contempt that pure-blooded society held for them. I want to thank you all for your help, votes and continuous support. I for one am looking forward to see our new two-party system at work." He paused a bit.

"My decision to leave is personal. I have given my best years of my life to this nation and time has come to be a bit selfish and spend some time with my family. I want to thank Arthur Weasley- my Chancellor of Exchequer for his friendship and wonderful dealing with finances, my friend Ahvar Patil for excellent work and many friendships he acquired as our Foreign Secretary. Of course there are many others, many others to be remembered, and those who work for the Wizarding world- Aurors, Unspeakables, Floo operators, and teachers just to name few. I thank you and salute to the work you have done.

Talking about teachers, it is through their enthusiasm and determination that we were able to reform our greatest educational institution- the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It took all our efforts, but I can clearly say that our students never enjoyed so much freedom and equality in environment that is not abusive, but supports spirit and creativity. May our nation grow many great minds and discover many wonders in realm of magic. Thank you that would be all." He waved and smiled, showing his white teeth to the applauding crowd. Nearly everyone stood up to honour the leaving Minister. Time for cordiality ended it was time for me to ready for battle.

"Order! Order!" shouted highly vexed Chief Warlock and stomped with his gavel. " I want to remind Rgt. Hon. Lords and Ladies not to stray from the debate and debase themselves to petty squabbling that has nothing to do with debate as well as unnecessary insults. That goes especially to you lady Robbards! Order!" I must admit that I never understood Dumbledore's insistence on me having my childhood intact. These people are clearly enjoying themselves. On the other hand, it is not that hard to stand out seeing as one simply has to behave like an adult.

"All members of the House will return to their seats or I'll call Aurors to maintain order!" Well, it seemed that Chief Warlock was really losing his temper. However, the overgrown kids had returned to their seats and there were no further disruptions.

"We shall now put our three candidates under Wizegamot's vote. Those in favour of Rufus Scrimgeour?" There is silence. I must wonder how many votes would these Auror lackeys get should Amelia Bones still be amongst the living. No one is interested in that old lion. Just few sorely lone hands had gone up. This is not the right way. I can hear the Chief Warlock proclaiming that 'majority' has not been reached and we will vote for another candidate.

"Those in favour of Draco Malfoy," sheer impossibility of this choice nearly makes me chuckle. Who would vote for the twit? Well, it turns out that according to the old pureblood rule of sticking together, there is quite a few.

"Draco Malfoy receives forty-four votes, no majority." That was quite close. Out of one hundred and one that is what I call a bit of luck. It seems that Kingsley wasn't so successful in his purges.

"All those in favour of Arthur Weasley as future Minister of Magic." Middle ground, pureblood and recently alleviated upstart without any desire but to rule in favour of people. It makes my nose bleed. Visiting Florence has its advantages but discovery of Machiavellian Society is the most significant one of them. You didn't think I spent my years in exile moping and beating myself? Oh, you did. Well, they have no idea what they are going to deal with. Many voters of my constituency didn't believe that it was I, even when I showed up.

Potter's family manor confiscated to pay the price of my youthful foolishness and Ginevra's frequent and extravagant parties left them a bit suspicious about my own mental health. I must admit that my natural charm as well as my rousing speech left them excited. The result was a premature end of political career for the young lord Longbottom as well as quite a hefty bill for various alcoholic beverages I purchased.

I can quite imagine your surprise when I say that it was Arthur Weasley who invited me back. Well, who else can work so skilfully with state's money if not the careful thief? They certainly make the best financiers.

Arthur Weasley receives forty-seven votes, no majority.

"Gentlemen and Ladies as the first vote failed to produce a victor we shall vote again. I stress the importance of the vote. We cannot continue until next Minister is voted in. Thank you." It seems that Chief Warlock wants to be somewhere else. Maybe at Madame Precious- the most famous brothel in Diagon Alley, says my informant. You did not think that I would come to this den of snakes without one? Oh, I know them all and as being Potter is nowadays equal to dimwit I will make them eat their words and deeds. All in due time, Arthur said that he had a job for me. We will see.

I suppose it comes as no big surprise that Arthur won the next vote. My knees are trembling when I think about that terrible reign of terror that scamp Draco Malfoy would build. Yes, it is not good to underestimate your opponents, but just thinking about the blond ponce is giving him enough credit.

I stand up to congratulate the new minister, holding my hand behind my back. How many knives are in human smile?

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It is time to face the same old music. They are waiting for me in the Ministry lobby and I am not very keen to talk, but still- it is a part of my job. The sacrifices I make…

"Anything to say lord Potter? How do you feel, returning to the country that had ridiculed you and to people that robbed you? Are you angry? Vindictive? Forgiving?" I smile on my favourite blonde reporter; gosh that woman looks like some character from American noir stories. I smile.

"Are you hoping to get a place in the new government? Any promises from the new Minister?"

"Come, come Rita. You may very well think that, I couldn't possibly comment.

They laugh. Good, I like merry people, they tend to not to think at that moment of giggling and ask fewer questions. What's next? Oh, I thought you knew.

Well, it was about time to put a bit of a stick about.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter characters, books etc. in any way... J. K. Rowling does and I just use her world for a bit of storytelling.**

AN: Thank you for all those reviews; they were a source of inspiration and tremendous help to me. So keep it up. Narrative where the hero is speaking with audience is a bit weird and if you cannot get used to it, imagine that Harry is a bit touched in head and speaks to Faerie Court. I finished this chapter with lots of enthusiasm as story reached nearly 1.2 k hits, lots of favs and even more alerts and that is a good sign for me. Thank you for your encouragement. I should not hold you any longer. Until the next time!

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**Chapter II: Pretending**

_In which_

_Harry is rudely awakened and sorely disappointed-Our hero becomes a poster boy with hidden agenda- Harry is paid a visit- Pretenders debate-A ball is held- Woman is wooed-A finger is raised_

"Master you have a Floo call from the Ministry." Yes, I do not deny that keeping Kreacher as my house elf may seem a bit off, but take it from my point of view. Money is tight and I can barely maintain Grimmauld Place up and running as a proper household. I take up my wand and start swishing around. The magical methods are neat and tidy. Piles of clothes wrap themselves around me and I feel slightly better. This is something I refuse to let my little knife-charge leading friend with big ears to help me with and even after all those years am excited to see things magic can do. Who would ever go Muggle?

When I arrive downstairs you can spot big and smiling face of Arthur Weasley, pardon Minister, hovering in the roaring fireplace. How I detest the man. Reminds me of Emperor's favourite horse- you know the one he made a senator. How to negotiate with a mule?

"Sir, how nice of you to floo by; how can I help you." I act surprised, for that would be a natural reaction to such an important visit. Of course I expected it.

"Harry, stop with this sir business. Can I come through? It wouldn't be prudent for my employees to see me on my knees this early." I am quite sure that he is winking as if all this was some kind of private joke.

"Of course...Arthur," I pronounce his name with slight distaste. I wonder if he has noticed. I step aside, no need to start a day with being knocked down by the leader of magical community. He exits the fireplace without any stumble. Can you remember how long it took me? It seems that someone forgot to tell me the basics of magical travel, one cannot think badly of Hagrid so I'll just let it go.

"Can I offer you something Arthur?" He must be deaf not to hear the false politeness in my voice.

"Yes, coffee would be great," he beams. Somehow, I just couldn't imagine former muggle-loving wacko having his teeth magically changed. I guess I missed a lot and if there was an ounce of humour left in my body I would laugh. White smile.

"Kreacher, prepare one coffee for the guest and one tea with milk as usual for me." I turn to the smaller wizard and motion to the plush armchairs, perhaps one of the last remnants and reminders of the fall of Noble and Ancient House of Black.

"Harry," he starts talking very slowly as if weighting every single word," I was delighted when I discovered that you have returned. This whole mess with Ginny was... unfortunate." Man looks uncomfortable, but he is trying at least. Shame that in my books, trying counts for nothing. With past like mine one comes to appreciate the profit of something real. Promises are nice but what good comes from them?

"Yes, but nothing can change that now Arthur. On the other hand even if we cannot meet as the father and son," I cringe at the thought," Some good may come from any potential cooperation we conduct in the future.

"Observant as always Harry," I am not quite sure if it was meant as an insult since many things I've done in the past are calling for a review in my judgement.

"I have indeed come to offer you a job. Department of Games and Magical sports lacks..." I feel my blood simmer as I tune him out for a moment.

"Madame Marbles has been doing a marvellous job so far but I think we need someone younger as her Undersecretary." It is real. Trust me, I feel very angry about this. I was not born to polish someone's door handles, so they can touch them without fear of infection. He is actually offering me a poster boy position. No real power, very close to nothing. No, it is nothing! Well, I am Harry Potter after all. We shall see. Arthur waits for my answer. Spineless... I nod, what else is there to do?

"Capital Harry, capital, I think the whole Ministerial Council shall be delighted at such good news." I smile and extend my hand. The man has the audacity to actually hug me!

"What date Am I to start?" I ask just before he enters the fireplace.

"Tomorrow," reply is clear and loud, "Your meeting with Madame Marbles is scheduled at 8 am, don't be late." What bothers me is not the dust he left on my Persian rug (handmade- purchased at Al Barrah- 1866- Elladora Black) but rather the air of assumption that I will do whatever he says. I really do not like people setting me up. Well, blood and toil can wait a bit; until I resolve my lack of finances.

"Kreacher?" I found it dangerous to let my mind wonder what my creepy house elf is up to when he is not completing any tasks issued by me. All of the few guests I have had pleasure to entertain since my return are afraid of his strange appearance and even more so of his habit to apparate right behind your back. One doesn't want to think about the long knife sliding between withered ribs, right to the vulnerable flesh.

"Prepare some breakfast for me." I order firmly. It is something about our master-servant relationship I must keep. It is for the respect he gets from others of his kind. At least some do not remember that horrific hyphenated name of mine with utter contempt. The little creature probably enjoys the attention he gets from his peers.

"Right away, Master. Kreacher is honoured to serve Ancient and Noble Houses of Potter and Black." I never knew what pleasure is hidden in these little things. As you are aware, I was brought up as a plebeian and had no chance to enjoy the fine side of life- culture, philosophy, politics and booz...alcohol. Why should I be ashamed of being someone of noble blood? Money will come and my veins are the key to that. Trust me I have a plan.

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"Good morning Mr. Potter," a matronly witch with Roman nose greeted me;" I am glad that you seem to be a punctual young man." I kiss the offered hand hoping that I won't have to wash my mouth later. She emits a girlish giggle.

"Oh, it seems that politeness is not foreign to you." I bow a bit, not too much- this is not the monarch, just another hurdle to jump over. She motions me to sit down and I patiently wait what she's got to say.

"When Arthur spoke about the possibility of Ministry using you for some Ministerial job I wasn't sure how we all felt. We have a lot of work in here Mr. Potter and it often goes unrewarded. I was given a guarantee that you are a hard worker and diligent one too. However, a lot of people come with stunning qualifications and Hogwarts diploma acquired before the reform to mirror Muggle higher education is simply not enough." I hate to ask something so simple, but I do it anyway. It is better to seem like a fool than to actually be one.

"So I will be needing documents to prove that I am not uneducated? Minister didn't mention anything about it." Her trimmed eybrows lift up a bit.

"Mr. Potter I want to make one thing explicitly clear. This administration is fighting to root out nepotism and favouritism, it would not be prudent to employ someone..." her eyes focus on my scar," just for his fame or reject him because of defamation. I need the proof that you are able to use Ministry approved higher level of spells." Are you asking me if I have been expecting something like this? Of course I have. No one knows cost of certain services and things better than I.

"Then I am really glad ma'am that I prepared myself. I take this offer very seriously." I use my most eager face. Yes, it is a bit of an exaggeration but how else could anyone be happy to stay in such a ridiculous position and be content? I take out my papers and hand them over.

"Are these originals?" she asks.

"No, all of them are just copies." She cannot hope to get originals; they are resting in one of the Gringott's vaults, where they shall remain forever. She just nods in understanding.

"I see that you have passed an Advanced Arithmancy and Complete Runes courses and under tutorship of Skersog Skyellyg no less." She sounds surprised.

"Yes ma'am, I hope some of his controversial philosophic and political views are not a problem for you?" The woman frowns a little, but you can see underlying mask of admiration.

"You were also awarded the Grand Distinction at Supreme Istituto Magic a Venezia?"

"Yes, Master Skyelygg is one of their most notable figures and as you can see I obtained high marks in all my subjects."

"I will floo Direttore Primo Riviera- just to confirm the data you have provided. It is, of course, a standard procedure.

"Of course,"I mutter and smile at the lady.

"This is most impressive Mr. Potter," she exclaims as she holds out one of the blue papers,"Seignor Tomassino writes about your work at Aerial Dockyards with admiration, which is something very uncommon for such unbiased scholar. Are you sure you want to work within administrative? The Ministry has a great need for capable engineers. As you well know our transportation technologies are a bit behind the rest of Europe and such an addition to the team would..." I stop her rant immediately.

"No ma'am, I want to work for the government of this glorious country."

"Oh, well then, such credentials mean that there is no other chance than to employ you. You seem to be a man of talent Mr. Potter and I am glad for that, I simply cannot stand incompetence. Come with me and I will show you your office and then you will have the time to complete the paperwork." Yes, the necessary bureaucracy for the restless. How slow and impractical. One of the reasons that lower levels of the departments cannot generate anything brilliant or even remotely interesting and innovative. You have to guide them like a sheep. No wonder when they are drowning in the volumes of red tape. I am finished few minutes later.

"Everything appears to be in order Mr. Potter. I am looking forward to working with you. Here this is the first project we were given. Good luck."

I inspect the suitcase with special envelopes charmed to protect the content. You just brush the opening and whisper your name and voilà you can read!

Six hours later and my thorough examination of the facts is over. The whole document had been composed by someone who had only marginal knowledge of organizational issues it presented. According to this unbelievable seven hundred pages long monstrosity the International broom racing stadium and league are to be established for the Ministry's money without it being able to enforce the usual sporting and Muggle protection rules. These are the expenses for nothing and painful, long-winded drivel to boot. I put down my glasses and rub my sore eyes. "Lumos," my lips are completely dry. You see, I discovered this workaholic streak at the beginning of my Italian studies and when I plunge myself into the task I can long hours think only about the result. Study of Arithmancy helps with logic, but deeper you get into it, the sooner you will see everything like one great equation, a puzzle you need to solve before you embark any further.

The faint glow of my wand is not enough to lighten up the whole office, but I don't need that since I am about to leave. "Protect!" I order and point my wand at the door lock. Boring office day is over. I am perhaps the last employee still in the building. Everyone is back at their cosy little homes. The most important task of the day is still ahead of me.

Big 'HALL OF RECORDS 'sign greets me and I visualize the door being unlocked. Well, I guess nobody can expect Alohomora, although silent, to open any room containing high security information. Three circles, quick swish and very short Swedish incantation are a different thing altogether. It seems that the matrix of the lock can be easily deciphered. Click is certainly a good sign. I open the metal steel imbued with magic repelling rods- standard procedure.

I swiftly skim the registers- names under P. Oh, here we are.

_Lord Harry James Potter-Black_

_Father: James Potter- Pureblood_

_Mother: Lillian Potter, n__ée__ Evans-Muggleborn_

_Societal status: Nobleman by inheritance and by half of his blood_

_Blood status: Half-blood_

_Personal status: Single- no serious acquaintances _

_Education: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_Political status: Member of Wizegamot, Independent_

_Lord Potter is person often described as controversial..._ I skim the rest of the page. There is nothing really interesting, even for you.

_His mental health is in question, prone to the bouts of anger..._ Same old slander. You don't believe it do you? Of course not, that would be incredibly silly. Bouts of anger, as if...

_Underachiever with low self-esteem, this view is supported by the leading Mental Healers as well as by his long-time acquaintance that will remain anonymous for the safety purposes. His behaviour during the purity assault court process also suggests unwillingness to confront people who are or were close to him._

_New Entry: Attended various courses in Italy, came in contact with few pureblood supremacists, full observation order- waiting for approval by the DMLE_

So it is true. They want me to stay and play by their rules. What fools! How can they hope to keep me cornered? Oh anger, you purifying emotion stay put! I shall have a use for you later.

I close the file my friends. I close the file to forget, but not to forgive. I shall thank them for the rules. They will be easily bypassed. Now off with you then!

I give a quick salute to the Auror guard who replies in similar manner and leave the Ministry through swirl of green flames.

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I enter the kitchen and nearly make a double take over my loyal and completely batty house elf. The poor creature is acting erratic as if the precious caverns of his very sensitive ears were threatened by something so terrible that mere whisper of its existence would render them useless. I am right in a way.

"Master Harry, hurry," it screeches and use of my birth name gives me a definite proof that something is wrong.

"We have a guest! Master cannot wear his working robes!" He ushers me upstairs where I am given a nice silk ones with family coats of arms entwined together. I am given a stern inspection and assuming that everything is fine I stumble down the stairs. I know that something is not right, but what to expect? I enter and there in my particularly favourite armchair, one of the few family heirlooms that Padfoot genuinely liked, sits one Hermione Granger.

"Kreacher, pray tell me," I say with amused and calm expression, "What was the order I have given you, concerning visits?"

"Master forbids any?" Inside I am livid. Have you noticed the soft voice and gentle reminder that I own the blasted house elf? I find it immensely stimulating to know the right buttons to push and even more to find some new ones.

"Then I somehow don't understand how Miss Granger ended up..."

"Secretary Granger if you want to be so formal Harry." I smile again. Two can always play this game. "Then it is Undersecretary Potter-Black to you Madame." She frowns and bites her lip with supressed frustration. It is obvious who was able to acquire nerves of steel. Anything that can help them to read you, anything that makes you predictable must go or be covered.

"Listen to me Harry Potter! You cannot treat your friends like this!" Her face is red as she shouts; I presume she has been restraining herself for quite some time.

"You leave for seven years and when you finally show up you ignore us! Furthermore, I could have a warrant for your arrest drawn up! You treat this conscious little being poorly and..."

"Silencio," I believe that it was Ignatius the Great who invented the spell to shut his loud and crass wife, who was a Lothario in skirts and a source of constant embarrassment for the Great Master.

"Secretary Granger I am still by laws and customs of our land a noble lord. You are on my property and I ask you to leave at once, voluntarily. For the sake of our former friendship and for your own good go home to your husband. I am tired and hungry and as you should know that is not the best combination. Concerning your warrant, you know you have no conclusive evidence. It would be my word against yours and though I am nearly bankrupt my blood still means more than your self-righteousness." She watches me with awe as if I suddenly grew two heads, her hands are trembling.

"But Harry," I merely point at the door. She stands up and slowly walks to the door.

Standing next to the fireplace I speak to her before she presses the door handle, my voice is soft and laced with sentiment I cannot fully supress:" Granger, if you need anything work related, I will be more than happy to help. You know how much I have lost, mainly thanks to help you have given Ginny, but I will not let it interfere with my job. Have a nice day Secretary and tell Terry that I say hello." She is swallowed by the darkness created through magical reshuffling of the houses. One cannot risk discovery of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, not even in these peaceful times.

"Kreacher?" He immediately pops behind me.

"Master wishes?"

"We will drink tonight, together." He blinks and I observe with certain kind of dread as large tears start falling from his large eyes.

"Master is most kind; Kreacher will have some Butterbeer and some whisky for you." I nod gracefully. Tonight I shall drink away my scruples and sentiments, my only companion being the last shreds of sorrow and scruffy old house elf.

Hermione Granger apparated as soon as she was outside, landing near International apparition spot. Small company was already waiting for her in magical variant of the cabinet chamber. She quickly undressed her heavy overcoat and sat down.

* * *

Hermione Granger apparated as soon as she was outside, landing near International apparition spot. A small company was already waiting for her in magical variant of the cabinet chamber. She quickly undressed her heavy overcoat and sat down.

"Hermione, how went the visit of our mutual friend? Is he well?" Arthur's eyes were reflecting the fairy lights floating randomly in the space of the room. "Will he work with us?"

The bushy-haired Secretary of Environmental problems and Magical Minorities grimaced a bit. Late sessions of the Ministerial cabinet were always informal and amiable.

"I don't think so Arthur, he practically threw me out as soon as he returned. Gave me a good tongue-lashing too. He looked terribly tired and angry." She bit her lip. "There is something terrifying about him too as if he was carrying around some sort of power. His knowledge of laws seems to be superb..."

"Madame Marbles what is your opinion?" Minister turned to the old lady who sipped a hot chocolate from her cup and left it hovering in the air as she sat more upright.

"I am not sure what to think about it. He works hard and all and any Chief would welcome such an employee, but I agree with Secretary Granger that there is something off about the boy. He insists on working for administration even though his skills could be utilized in more creative and much better paid jobs." She fell calm and reached out for the abandoned cup.

"Yes, he wanted into cabinet," said Arthur Weasley.

"What? Did he tell you? Ahvar Patil nearly screamed, obviously outraged.

"Not in so many words, but his posture told me he wants to get in badly."

"That is shame," Shame, rasped Davis- Chief Secretary of Exchequer. His comment was met by series of snickers.

"Well, until he enters marital union he cannot even think about such a position. Our people may want modern government, but they still insist that those who govern them have a good sense of family. I would not be too much afraid in this case. Harry is a compassionate boy and since there is no love interest at the moment we may safely assume that we have plenty of time. DMLE will start with their investigation and we will see later. Am I correct, Director Savage?"

"Absolutely Minister, Potter will be kept on a tight leash."

"Brilliant," smiled Arthur," Now to the more important and pressing matters." He turned to the Indian man. "Ahvar, I suppose we shall start with the Gringott's review of our financial situation and what their foreign branches think about the situation of our finances..."

* * *

_Few weeks later_

If there is one maxim I have to stress in life as well as in politics it is "Trust no one!" and abide by it. It is not the paranoia as you may or may not think. It is the driving force that compels me, Harry Potter, to reach further and further in my aims without being hindered by incompetence or intrigues of the others. My Nordic Master was a bit too pureblood orientated, but his help was priceless. I need no more crash courses about behaviour or such a simple things like dance. For example the one I enjoy right now. Just imagine a grand Empire building, full of important and unimportant people. Big business, politicians, grand families, foreigners- all of them are here tonight to celebrate the election of Arthur Weasley. I smile; you know that I cannot stand the man. He is a very sloppy liar who thinks that being swamped in sea of work makes me unable to stretch my wings.

Magic is incredible. Muggles have their filth and sweat, their technologies full of dust, but we... we have our fantasies. How else can an old cynic like me admire all this?

"Lord Potter-Black, why are you not dancing? We must amend this!" I admit the title is a nice perk and rings well. I let the lady take me to the dangerous waters; sharks are represented by these young and older scheming creatures, clad into seductively winking frilly robes and floating in endless sea of lace. After coarse and straightforward women of Venice I think I can accept this different kind of entertainment. Be careful though, one must not forget his goal. No pleasure and no regret in the world will make me change my mind. I hope you know that.

"Susan, you should know that I am not overly fond of dancing." She laughs prettily and leads me to the place where we can swirl and speak with a shred of privacy.

"You know that you should be more receptive to the ladies advances, all that reservation doesn't fit the Boy-Who-Done-A-Runner." I sneer at her, not quite sure why it always earns me a playful swat, and trust me; no red-blooded male would willingly miss such a grievous attack inflicted upon him by the Bones heiress.

"They should be richer, lovely lady. Then perhaps I could profess something for them. As it stands now, I've yet to see a true woman." She pouts with her adorable lips. It is rigidity that binds my blood so terribly eager to flood certain place and leave others, brain for example.

"Relationship is not something I am looking for at the moment," I reply as usual. You may hear that my voice is not even trembling as I lie and I refuse to rub my nose or show any other sign that what comes out of my mouth are not my true intentions. You may think whatever you like.

She presses against me, all those delightful curves digging at my frame. Dance music is slowing down. I would prefer something more classical.

"You are very naughty Miss Bones," I admonish her with mock glare added for a good measure.

"And you Mr. Potter are not very honest with me." She leans her head to my ear. Is that sense of impending dread in my stomach?

"Don't worry I won't tell." I feel my mind screaming. It is terrible you know, the fact that someone has somehow managed to get it, even though it is one of the most obvious of my secrets.

"That is very comforting to know, more dancing?" I suggest and we once again glide over the surface of what seems to be an enchanted frozen lake. It gives the place a not very subtle reminder of the impeding winter. For a moment I allow my brain to shut off. Yes, I know you remember that this is always the precise minute when something bad happens. Nothing, I just fly with pretty witch in my arms and don't think of tomorrow. Oh by the way- it is already here. Not the hour, but my future. She walked in, clad in modest robes with grand Victorian skirt. Yes, I do admit to be a first rate bastard but with chance for a romantic love as it is perceived in today's world already used up. The song ends and I thank my acquaintance for the enchanting experience, her mischievous and yet so hopeful smile never ceases as I stride away. Farewell freedom, harsh winter impending laid before me one quest to complete for the opening of my life to be closed.

* * *

There are many reactions to the Veela's aura amongst the male population, but mainly we can divide them into those that can fully resist this natural charm, succumb to it or stay on a half way- not being able to resist the stronger compulsion of a direct and often very angry order. It is vanity that fuels pride and arrogance and that is taught throughout the generations to these sirens of the land. They maintain severely matriarchal society and use men for the breeding purposes.

Part-Veelas are different thing altogether. They are either the first generation that bears the brunt of contempt since they are the offspring of those that have broken the most cardinal rule- never to fall in love. Yes, the greatest crime. Should they be caught they are to be mangled terribly for the sins of their mothers. Their aura is not that strong and later generations aren't so exposed to the ire of the clans, but still are seen with contempt and as the 'freaks', I hope you understand where this conclusion leads me, for that name couldn't have been more my own. However, most admirable feature is not the aura but nearly complete devotion to the husband after they complete the magical vows of the wizarding marriage.

"Harry Potter my name is Charles Colinridge, owner of the Daily Prophet. Me and my chap Arthur, well..., we were just talking about you work in the Magical Sports and Games department and we've got the impression that you are preparing something interesting for the upcoming summer season. Would you care to elaborate?"

"I am not sure if I can really speak about it, sir. But the bottom line is that we are going ahead with proposals of certain parties. I am not the architect of the whole project, nor can I take the credit for negotiations but we have made a good start and everything seems to be falling in place. With that I believe you will be pleasantly surprised."

"He won't budge an inch! A good fish you caught Arthur! Mute employee is worth every penny, isn't that true old chap?" The man is vulgarly jovial and I don't like it. Having money from speculation with gold doesn't entitle you to everyone's silence I don't believe that there is really a single human being I have desire to call so. Shame, utter and complete shame, I dare to say.

"Sorry sir, I see a good acquaintance of mine and must really go, have a nice evening." I ignore Minister's raised eyebrows and walk slowly to the balcony to breathe some fresh and get rid of wicked thoughts.

There she stands. The most exquisite flower of all the women and I mean that literally. I don't hold any glass of champagne as heroes in this situation usually do; I am no hero after all.

"Good evening Fleur." She turns to me slowly, moon bigger that ever adores her face with silvery beams. Her weakly glowing aura only adds to the illusion of her as the otherworldly creature. Blue eyes search my face for some kind of familiar features. I made it easy for her and my hair is for the first time tamed in a slick manner so anyone can see my trademark scar. All those years ago I was just the kid who 'saved' her sister. Back then my intentions were pure and childish. Nothing lasts forever. We haven't seen each other for more than eleven years.

"'Arry! Is that you?" She seems genuinely surprised. I pity the girl.

"Indeed Miss Delacour, Saviour of the Wizarding world in all his glory." She looks relieved when I lace the whole statement with not-so-subtle tone of irony.

"It doesn't count for much nowadays, yes?" She smiles sadly. Apparently it is not boring ball international dinner packed with all the ambassadors, top brass present that is the main problem.

"This is the most unexpected meeting 'Arry. Be glad that Gabrielle doesn't know, she would have taken you, locked you up and I don't believe zat anything could've stopped her if she 'ad discovered you."

"That flatters my ego in ways you cannot imagine." She genuinely smiles, for the first time.

"Zat is not a hard zing to accomplish for most of ze men."

"I like to think myself different, but we all do that I presume. On more a cheerful note, would you care to dance with me? I believe I am not much of a boy anymore." She lets out a short liberating giggle.

"I zink I would like zat very much."

There is just slight breeze that we can feel. Warming wards will not let us experience the true nature of the late autumn. Our bodies are more than a feet away, her old-fashioned skirt doesn't allow for us to be nearer. Men had it much harder back then. No heat compelling lady to betray her high principles.

"So what do you do?" I ask, knowing that it is impolite to be completely silent during the dance.

"Trying to enjoy myself?" She says innocently.

"I meant generally, any job?"

"Oh zat. I am not working at ze moment. Maman wants me to be ze proper lady first. I worked for ze Gringott's few years ago, but she put a stop to zat."

"Really?" I must partly fake interest. I know this already and I suppose that Hermione would not like the fact that I perverted her 'always do a research on a subject'. That doesn't mean I am not enthralled by the way she speaks, content is not that important at the moment.

"Yes, I've met an Englishman there..."

"Is he the lucky guy who gave you this?" My eyes stab to the direction of my mortal enemy- the golden bracelet on her left hand. She frowns.

"No, that one is from Monsieur Poincaré, my fiancée.

"Congratulations then, he is from a good family. That seems like a very strong union. You are..." She releases my hands and I stop in mid-motion.

"A very lucky woman. Do you think I don't know zat?" There is anger present equally in her eyes and in her beautifully trembling voice.

"I apologize if I'm being presumptive." I turn as if I wanted to leave. Of course it is acting. I have no intention to do so.

"Wait!" she cries out. I turn back.

"Please, stay and dance with me some more? I don't want to go back into zat crowd of strangers." I completely understand, I don't want to go there either. We both move silently, perfectly synchronised with each other. It is pleasant to hold her.

"So is there some problem with your fiancée?" I press slowly.

"'e iz boring! Boring old man who wants to increase his property and I am apparently ideal candidate." Yes, first born heiress of large fortune. You guess right I am a bastard.

"So if he was some prince from fairy tale you wouldn't mind?"

"Life iz not a fairy tale."

"You are right Miss Delacour. That and all men are pigs and you should be very careful."

"Even with you?" She wiggles her eyebrows delightfully and I feel a pang of regret. I would very much like to be that boy once again. I grin.

"Especially with me." She laughs and we can hear Big Ben chiming in the distance.

"Oh, I am afraid that our time is up."

"I must admit, Miss Delacour these were moment well spent."

"Please 'arry you 'ave already 'elped my family enough, call me by my name."

She has a dreamy smile on her face. Something inside of me screams, perhaps the remains of person I used to be. I push them aside; all of this is for my Greater Good.

"Thank you for the evening... Fleur. I would very much like to meet you again."

"I would like zat too. Join your Minister for the next month's dinner in the Chateau Delacour and bring some chocolat for my sister" She gives me hand to kiss and leaves to join her 'papa' at the entrance.

I watch her go. I hear Schubert's D. 929 in my head. Her neck is exquisite. I leave to sleep away the exhaustion, for another day already shapes and turns in my head. What is to become of me?

* * *

Plots I have laid, like the king of old. Lies and deceit are my friends. Shine out fair sun. But to spy my shadow would be a mistake, let them wait a little. How many mistakes they have made? Underestimating me for one and for good measure my complacency and alleged meekness I add. The end is not here yet and the grand finale? Far, far away.

To you my foes a finger I give, the middle one for good laugh and cheer, but as not to exaggerate a good kick will do, at least so it would seem.

For you my friends of ghostly court I have one message: Enjoy your life and when the time comes once again we shall meet. May you enjoy fair days that pass so fast! What is there for me? I will only have more pests to eradicate.

* * *

_This nearly 6k chapter grew and grew until I couldn't contain it anymore. If my 'poetry' seems really bad then please take me down a notch or two in you reviews._


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter characters, books etc. in any way... J. K. Rowling does and I just use her world for a bit of storytelling.**

_AN: Thank you! That is all I wanted to say. I don't usually get many reviews, so it is nice knowing what people think for a change. It took me a long time to post this chapter, but I don't intend to make a habit out of it. Expect the next one in some ten days._

_I also reviewed the first two chapters and corrected few mistakes in spelling and grammar and I will continue to do so. But don't let me waste your time with useless blabbing. Step in.

* * *

_

**Chapter III: In the Firelight**

In which

_Harry is not a celebrity- Our hero visits the nest of happiness and feels somewhat sentimental- Plays a gentleman- Harry asks an important question – A plan suceeds_

Jovial smiles, waving hand and my trademark messy hair, that is how Undersecretary welcomes the vultures that are here to gnaw on some flesh, and it is not necessarily the one that belongs to me.

"Good morning to you all! Ministry told me to apologize for the fact that I have woken you up so early, but what sort of newshounds would you be if the information was not your first priority?" They laugh and I feel the uneasiness from public speaking slowly slipping away. "I did not invite you from some personal whim as some of you may think." I land another direct hit right into their humorous brain cells. They offer me polite smiles, but no apologies-perish the thought!

"We in the Department of Magical Games and Sports were given a task that finally brings to our population a sport that the greater majority of the world is already enjoying and... a unique place where we all can experience it firsthand. I move my wand and murmur:" Specialis Revelio." Big table next to me is instantly animated and starts showing miniature three-dimensional picture of a grand building. I tune out an unpleasant sound of hundreds of quills scratching on various surfaces. Profit, profit, and profit- everything is about money in the end... That sounds awful, don't you think?

"Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce to you the Merlin's stadium. First permanent national magical sports centre in the world." They are scribbling into their small notepads so fast that you can imagine heat the poor parchment is forced to endure.

"It will be used to host not only the finals of the Quidditch league, but also our new Broom racing league and become the only Ministry approved place to officially compete in this sport." They are eager like bunch of schoolgirls who never has had a hand up their knickers; I guess all that energy ought to go somewhere. Yes, I am very well aware of the fact that I've grown old. It sometimes feels a bit difficult to bear, but the faces I can pull off...

"Ministry will ensure that the building is complete in next few days as soon as we get Gringott's approval for the lease. Financial situation may be a bit shaky at this moment, but I am quite certain that everything will turn out for the best." Clear and easy answer that is what they get and if they are not stupid they already are sniffing around my hint.

"We have great plans about the focus the MGS Department in the future years and I hope this will be the first step on a long road to increase the interest in sport." Games and bread are a combination that works nearly every time. It took me a few days before I realised what possibilities this position entailed.

"Now is the time for me to answer your questions, please be as brief as possible in order to satisfy you apparent hunger. Thank you."

"Sir, Harold Merle-WizBus, what is the period of return of the investment for this...venture?"

"Exchequer is counting with three years. Figures for that are taken from various statistical surveys we had done in few last years. My predecessor kept very good records and thanks to that I am able to continue in his work without the need for some massive review or nonsense like that. " I wave with my hand dismissively to assure them about the minor nature of obstacles that stand in way of this project.

"Alesia Morrigan- Owl Watch, what is the exact capacity of the stadium?"

"There is none. To be more precise, we can expand the space however we want, so theoretically it can hold infinite number of spectators." You can hear excited murmuring.

"Luna Lovegood-Weasley- Quibbler, is it true that all the fuss is just to cover up Ministry's financial problems and row with Gringott's?" The golden stocks falling down, creditors getting angry, few smaller companies going bankrupt that is the effect of this dreamily pronounced statement and there is no one who would have been able to do it with so much grace. This should have been Rita's question you loony girl. I am very impressed indeed.

"I am sorry Miss Lovegood but that is not something I can confirm."

"You can come for dinner Harry. Ron and I would be very happy." There are certain prerequisites for the symbiosis between politicians and journalists. They don't get too personal and we won't count them in when we get back into office. They will still have a place to work in. Well, I think being Luna Lovegood explains a lot of things.

"Thank you for the offer Miss Lovegood and I am certain that a good hot soup would do a world of good for my protesting stomach." Some of them laugh. I see a flash of green. Good we may start.

"Rita Skeeter- Daily Prophet, Mr. Potter, do you confirm or deny the rumours that you are here to avert the eyes of public from potential financial, using you fame for that single purpose? Are we lied to by government? Do you want the top job after being awarded subpar position?

"Dear Mrs. Skeeter, rumours are everywhere and it would be very wrong to assume that any of them is more than a puff against the wind. I can only say that the department intends to expand and this is our five-year vision and we intend to fulfil it. Concerning my post, it would be quite arrogant from me to go against my own boss to whom I owe it. This is what I do and I intend to give it all I have. That would be all. Thank you." They are holding up their notepads, but I have no intention to answer any further questions. All they will remember will be that Harry Potter had been humbled and something about financing. Good, stadium will be there to soothe their worries. I know what people want and how they think. You do not presume me too arrogant, do you?

"Photos," someone from the crowd demands. I give them this round- any publicity is a good publicity and I grudgingly admit that it is needed at this point in my career. Contrary to the popular belief, Wizarding cameras don't use flash, it has to do something with the manufacturer and shabby deals that are nearly omnipresent at hearts of our nicotine political club rooms. We have magic for Merlin's sake.

As I enter the grand building I can see a very persistent owl trying to penetrate the wards I erected to protect my office against unwanted intrusions. It is incredibly small and it frantic movements bring back old memories.

"Pigwidgeon!" It really is the small and too familiar pet that belongs to my best friend. A big letter it carries is obviously weighting the bird down. I let it drop into my hands, use my wand to slice the envelope, take out the parchment and read:

_Dear Harry,_

_You are cordially invited to the Weasley Loft. Clothes are entirely optional as well as any swimwear and magical pets. We offer homemade cupcakes and onion soup. You may come any day you like the best choice being Friday evening. _

_Looking forward to meeting you_

_Leonine, Rose, Frederick, Luna and Ronald_

The parchment is pink and it smells like a woman. Luna seems as batty as usual and I am really curious. I suppose one evening cannot be that much of a waste. I pin small, hyperactive owl with a sticky charm to prevent any harm that it could inflict to itself by endless excited flitting around.

I don't want to be too much of a formal prick. Ron would not understand and Luna would not care. I free the small animal and it leaves almost at once. Some work to finish and then my friends? Then I'll have a good night's sleep. Friday is not here yet.

* * *

There is a large difference between Muggle's and Wizard's perception of the world. We live in a slower pace and I absolutely loathe the fact that some over-sensitive fool tried to bring mobile telephones and charm them to work. They just won't, anyone who understands enough magic to take the rabbit out of hat can see that. Unfortunately, some think that it would change our society into something better, faster, cleaner... As if Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes advertisements were not enough. Sometimes, the road to hell is nothing but good intentions.

I bought a rabbit. One simply cannot call on his best friends without a proper gift for their offspring. The monstrous herbivore bit me two times and I was forced to stun it and conjure a large box that contained the animal for those few unpleasant moments that travel by floo usually takes.

"Harry!" After being turned all around amidst the swirling flames, my legs are a bit wobbly. I nearly don't recognize the young man that hugs me as if it was something completely normal. "Luna, hellions, he is here!" I feel anxiousness seep all through my core. I am no longer accustomed to deal with honest people. He leads me to a large space that resembles kitchen and drawing room put together. Try to imagine a large green dome made of glass and held up by massive tree branches. Even the rug seems to be alive and I nearly drop the gift when it tickles my ankles.

There is a loud cracking noise and you can see a young woman running towards me with three children in tow. She seems radiantly happy and her demeanour is completely different from the sharp reporter I have come to know.

"It is good that you have come, Harry. I was just telling Ronald how badly we need someone experienced with Arithmancy when you flooed in." The man in question is staring at his wife with one of the most adoring looks I've ever had the displeasure to encounter. Two small and heavily freckled children are a bit shy and hide themselves in mother's skirt. Third one- a lively toddler is shrieking excitedly.

They let me sit down on the veranda from where we can watch a beautiful play of fairies skimming on the surface of the river. Ron brings wine; everything changes so quickly, even my best mate.

"Don't make those faces Harry," he chuckles," it will stick." Oh, can we observe the woman's hand in this?

"Hey, I could have expected virtually anything, but Ronald Weasley drinking fine wines and watching sunset at the river Severn, and all this while being actually interested in what he does, is something I will have to process for quite some time." His expression turns serious for a moment and as he hugs me once again, I can feel the sticky sensations caused by his tears. Then he lands the first punch. His absolutely crazy wife apparently approves, because as I go down to my knees she smiles with understanding. "Men," her teeth are bared as she silently laughs at our silliness, but there is no female companion for her, to share this eternal knowledge with.

Next hit nearly takes me down. I ignore the warning bells in my head; this is Ron, thick-headed, ginger-haired moron I think I knew once. Nothing makes sense anymore. Past stands as future and both intermingle into that terrifying mess we call events. There is only one right direction I can follow in this matter- I spit and laugh. Hug the bastard and pretend for a moment, no one will get hurt and perhaps I'll be rewarded with some smiles, true ones this time.

"You got old Ron, still a git though." I am given a mock glare.

"Old? Do I seem old to you? We are not even thirty, for Merlin's sake!"

"I cannot hear you," I beckon to him, "come little closer." He does what I say. Simple and complete trust, how refreshing! He pays for it when I use my right hook and send him tumbling through the entrance door. He growls and launches himself at me...

"I is here to inform you that Mistress Luna is serving dinner." We jump up from the ground and shake hands to dutifully follow a very peculiar house elf through the hall and grand dome right to a big oaken table that is full of food- Weasley style. There is a lot of laughter and spilt milk.

I don't like cuddly and fluffy things; come to think of it, I don't really like animals or children. It would perhaps be more prudent to list things I am keen of. Yes, that would be less time-consuming.

Why Am I talking about this? Simply because a small girl of free is sitting on my knee and my newfound old friends are encouraging me to play a plane game to get her eat. Do you know how utterly embarrassing it is?

"Unca Harry, why are your eyes so green?" Asks one of the little devils, courtesy of Luna's parenting style.

"Mommy says that the Fizbees are painting them every night, so they won't be like those we have," replies the oldest one, Leonine, wisely. She is of the same wispy, willowy constitution as her mother and you can see her interest in the unknown by the distinctive glasses with bat motive she wears.

"So Harry," Ron interrupts silence that fell after we started seriously eating, instead of playing with vegetables, "What are you up to? I heard that we are going to have a broom racing stadium. Damn shame that Cannons won't play finals in that nice golden cage."

"I would say more of a golden parachute, but one must be careful; your wife is the sharpest journalist since Rita was forced to write only absolute truth." He actually smiles fondly and they share an otherworldly moment. It is clear that they forget, from time to time, that their honeymoon ended a few years ago. Fortunately, I am not a good person to be asked to supervise the 'hellions', thus I won't have to resolve to earplugs when these two want to have free evening to resolve some 'marital tension'.

"So, I see that land is good and life too." Ron holds his mug with butterbeer up and high.

"Thanks Merlin that my mate finally visited us!" He gives a short and honest toast. I join in and soon we are all laughing. I must pretend of course, but that is beside the point- I am permanently in a state of pretence; it is something all aspiring politicians must be at least adepts in.

When children are tucked in, and Mr. Pickles (the blasted rabbit with sweet tooth) is resting in his new home, we adults sit down by the firelight to speak some more.

"You left too soon Harry. You should have known that I would not turn my back on you ever again. It took me nearly hour of banging on the Grimmauld Place's doors to realize that you were gone." There is something about married people that makes them synchronize better, or perhaps I am reading too much into it. Luna continues.

"Ronald practically broke down and it took a lot of effort to calm him down." I couldn't believe that my old friend would take this show of his own vulnerability lightly. I expect at least a look of hurt. Instead, he squeezes her hand in assurance.

"We had sex, of course. So when Ginny arrived with her poor boyfriend, Ron threw them out and took his branch from the Burrow's family tree- he is such an adventurer sometimes." She completely blanks out with that trademark dreamy smile of hers. I cannot help but all she says seems to have a double meaning.

"He told me that we were to go away, so we just moved in and immediately started working on Leonina." I do not have even the slightest desire to cough. That woman is mad as a Hatter, albeit a sexy one. Just a stray thought from my younger years. They kiss, again.

It is a pleasant evening, passing with the turn of large moonlight clocks. I am weary, but sated in a way I have never come to know. Resting here, inside of a family is something magical.

Firelight is warming my legs and I found myself gazing into that glowing pit, fascinated by the movement of coal and red swirling flames. It feels painfully as home. As you can see, I do not belong in here and when it's already after the time I was supposed to leave, I am given two hugs and open invitation for the future.

I apparate away, the real world will not wait for me.

* * *

_Three weeks later_

Yes, Minister took me with him. I nearly begged the slimy ginger to allow me to follow His Magnificence to the Chateau Delacour. I think you would do the same, just to spend that one splendid night in one of the last bastions of French magical architecture. Refined and airy, these are the words I would use to describe the last and the most impressive work of a sculptor and a great builder Maurice Depuis Van Roy. Grand staircases, elegant battlements and glorious faerie lights- all these features make Neuschwanstein look like a sandcastle, projected by a person of mundane imagination.

"His Excellency, British Minister of Magic and his entourage," announces a very seriously looking doorman. His French is low and guttural. We step into grand room, full of crystal chandeliers. But I am here for people and no amount of aesthetical beauty can divert my sight from the task at hand.

The ball season is in full swing. Tired of it already? Yes, it is a bit bothersome. The same dull peacocks strutting around, trying to get access between numerous sets of well-kept thighs, are making it really difficult to bear this air damp with posturing.

"Is it true, Baron Poincaré, that you can beat anyone in a wizarding duel," asks a desperately clingy woman and squeezes muscles of her idol in a show of unquestioning adoration. Who is that prick? My honourable opponent, of course- he is the fiancé of one mademoiselle Fleur Isabelle Delacour.

"Excuse-moi, Monsiuer..." The art of speaking French is hidden within every person that has at least a bit of good old European arrogance pumping through their veins, just channel your inner bastard and you should be fine. Oh, have you noticed the young girl tugging at my robes? As I said before- I am hopeless with children, but somehow they always find me intriguing. It is much worse with teenagers.

The silvery hair and soft features are a clear indicator who is the little person trying to get my attention. You will forgive me if I exhale the breath I was holding for so long. Thank you.

"Miss Gabrielle, whatever made you seek me?" Is pouting compulsory with women who are in possession of curvy lips? Do not worry, I am aware of the age difference and certainly am not trying to be disgusting.

"My soeur told me to look for a man wearing black robes with silver griffon, for he will bring me a gift." What do you think? Those blue eyes would melt any adult's heart and formal speaking can be indication of good breeding. The only thing that can break society's demand is a gift of a heart, or at the very least some good Swiss chocolate.

"Well, she probably thought that you had something behind your ear." I reply, the oldest trick in the world any Muggle magician can use. She giggles happily as I reach out and suddenly hold a chocolate canary on my forefinger. The bird is animated and sings lightly; those with finer ears will recognize the melody. Now I walk a very thin lane between being and nothingness. How do they put it? Oh yes, play your cards right...

She eats the flying slab of chocolate and grins widely. There is a subtle difference between the two sisters. Where Fleur was womanly and alien, Gabrielle is more human and resembles a young pretty girl much more than her nearly otherworldly sibling. Time changes everything, Gabrielle is fetching young woman, whereas Fleur is something different- a Delacour heiress with substantial dowry to be paid to her husband at the moment they are wed. Sorry to disappoint you, you thought I felt something towards her? How delightfully naïve, but do not be afraid- I don't flatter myself to be that entertaining, so I will give you what you crave. I believe it is something that Poincaré cannot easily provide; the fellow is sixty years old for Merlin's sake. Fleur wants the same as you do- some romance and drama, faithful husband who wakes her up by tickling her chin with the satin petals of English rose. It is so easy to play the part, or for that matter, any part that is required by the situation at hand.

Young silvery-haired witch wets her lips with small tongue and her hungry gaze falls below my waist- unlike Fleur she is not a lady, but it would not do for a daughter of such an old and prominent family to be called a whore.

"Would you care for a dance, mademoiselle?" I hold out hand in a promise that doesn't bind me in any way. She takes it and offers me a very suspicious wink. I don't like winking at all, especially from the French, but you understand the need to maintain right and proper face.

We fly, there is a certain grace in our movements as it seems we are both very good dancers. Lady in question is taking diabolical liberties with my backside and it makes me really uncomfortable. What can one do? I suppose being flattered would be a usual reaction. I just push her small hands to a place more decent and acceptable to the spectators. "It is very kind of you Harry, to dance with me." I nod curtly. No smiles, no niceties, no trying to give a wrong impression. Just a perfect execution of every movement that waltz needs to flow correctly.

"But I don't believe that it is me you want to dance with." I give her a surprised glance. She is the kind of spoiled and rich witch American wizards like to read about in their tabloids. She apparently has a modelling career and was voted as the most popular pin-up of the French equivalent of Aurors- Gendarmes Magical, or so she says. Her figure allegedly has just the right amount of flesh that is very attractive for the majority of male wizarding community. I thank for the dance and wait patiently for the main star to arrive. One cannot bother with planetoids. You will forgive me the use of cheesy phrases.

Here they come. Appoline and Jean-Sabastian, the paragons of French high society, one wants to add aristocracy, but that is a bit of an exaggeration. My own title is just something you add to the name of every member of Wizengamot. I really hate the egalitarian spiel of these days. One wants to measure his merit and sometimes just piles of cash that you can throw around are not that interesting. One wants some recognition, one wants power and these don't automatically come with money. Delacours would hate me even if I had my vaults overflowing with gold.

"Mademoiselle," I bow and kiss the Delacour matron's left hand. Her aura is stronger than Fleur's and I can feel it testing my Occlumency barriers, seeping into small cracks, which I maintain as a cover for more experienced Ligilimens. Don't be afraid on my behalf- it is just a natural threat- assessing probe for all the Veelas, something to ensure survival of the species and continual line of offspring. Some men around are starting drooling, my good chap Tom would label them weak-minded fools. I on the other hand have a good use for such. But let us keep that for the future, for no one listens to me, yet.

"Monsieur," I give one more greeting. Jean Sebastian Delacour- a scion of wealthy pureblood family, whose rose through ranks of the Gendarmes fairly quickly. I don't trust a man who plays golf, my uncle played it too. What? That I do not trust anyone? Yes, you are correct, of course.

"Harry Potter at your service," he nods condescendingly and takes his wife's arm to escort her to the French Minister Bergier, who is enjoying mildly spiked punch. Fleur who enters right after her parents leave is smiling at me. Full and grown woman, as I said already.

"'arry," she whispers," it iz good to see you again." I kiss her hand. She smells of lilies and her cheeks have that healthy blush that goes away as our youth slowly fades; nothing I have to worry about today.

"Fleur, I am glad that you have missed me." She wraps my arm with her own and leads me into the garden. High hedges and well-trimmed lawns are stretching to infinity. I prefer English gardens, full of spontaneity and nature; French clearly cut rows of flowers and all that unnecessary order is completely alien to me. Moon shines even more brightly than those three weeks ago.

"I met your fiancé," I tell her and chuckle merrily as she scoffs at the reminder of her future bondage.

She suddenly turns around, her long skirt nearly touching the path we walk on. I decide to probe further.

"He seemed as a man who can can defend his woman." She is obviously not pleased with my inquiry.

"I am no one's woman!" Independence, how delightful to see that not all the souls are slaves to their roles and can show a real emotion, others cannot afford it so easily. I cannot imagine a situation that would require me to show such a weakness. Trust no one!

I catch her hands. They are incredibly soft, and the perfect alabaster skin is hot and pulsing with life. Do not take me for a youthful fool who throws away all propriety and safety for the sake of that elusive lie called love. I intend to be very careful, not caring.

"What are you doing 'arry?" The question is asked with confusion in her voice, but face betrays her. I didn't send those flowers for nothing. You may say that I am the temptation, the devil, the last chance to break away from her mother's will.

"I remember you Fleur. You were one of the champions, not some silly porcelain figure that is merely hanging off the shoulder of some man. You were my worthy competitor." Of course I have to flatter her. Of course I must acknowledge her. The past tense of the words bears the truth.

"You were arrogant, dismissive and very aggressive, you could frighten people and offend them at the same time. I didn't fall for you posturing though." She laughs.

"Zat is not very cavalier of you 'arry, to point out ladies less intriguing traits." I give her a mischievous smirk.

"All cavaliers lie dead, for not many of them use their heads. I survive my lady." She looks deep into my eyes.

"I see. Well it iz still surprizing, this change of yours. Leetle boy gone and you are a..." There is a silent laughter in her words, so I play along.

"A rake, is that what you wanted to tell me?"

"Quite. So unexpected, I remember you being ze shy one. Not a big fan of ze press. I hope zat I am not too forward." She apologizes for nothing. It is nice to know that she has manners, but I am not here for words.

"Things change, Fleur; nothing lasts forever. I came a long way from back then to now, and do not intend to look back." She nods in understanding. Our walk has taken us to the large lake that apparently belongs to the estate. There is a pair of black swans grazing the surface. The moments of silence between us are broken by the young witch.

"Zis is ze only place where I could be myself. Long walks always seemed to calm me down and ze countryside iz beautiful. Animals do not gawk at me as I talk zem."

"It must feel quite lonely, event amongst all this splendour and richness of society present."

"You cannot imagine."

"That is where you are mistaken, mademoiselle." I look at her with anger. All is staged of course. I know you knew.

"I have spent my entire childhood alone, Fleur. I was often beaten in vain attempts to get the magic 'out' of me and mend my 'freakish ways'. I was constantly slandered and when life decided to make me a good punching bag for the majority of British magical population I had no way to fight back. Furthermore..." I don't get to say anything else. She is clutching at my expensive robes, head buried at the crook of my neck. Surprise? Hardly- it is so easy to incite and stimulate attraction even without using some enhancements. It almost always start with that need to care for us. Some men don't even realize it.

I hold her, while she is sobbing, completely unaware that I plan to take an advantage of her fragile state.

"Ze world iz a cruel place- it gives you wings and zen takes them away. I am terribly tired 'arry."

"I believe this is the moment when I say that everything is going to be fine." I can feel her nodding.

"I will say that, under one condition." You must always try to be interesting enough.

"What zat might be?" She steps few feet back. You have to be bold. Where are the times, when only a mention of Cho Chang , sorry Corner, was able to make me a stuttering fool?

"Your hair, the French plait is nice but I liked it free. You know, like you had it back then. It was a very interesting experience, I suppose your aura had something to do with it"

"You are a very strange wizard."

"Well, I know that there are those who pay their house elves." She laughs again. It is much better than her crying. Not that it changes anything. All must go according to plan. She loosens those silvery curls and lets the silken ribbon fall down to the ground. Women in Italy are different. There is nearly innocent quality to this part-creature before me.

"Beautiful," I breathe out. She comes nearer and nearer. Fear compels her, fear that she will not be able do to anything like this in a very near future. I am not sorry, diamonds are so hard to find, the black ones can make you immortal.

Her eye lashes are long and flutter as her face leans forward.

She kisses me.

I have known many things, but this is different- different from Cho's salty goodbye, Ginny's suffocator or teasing promises of Italian women. These is magical and believe me, I am absolutely impartial.

"It is time for me to go back; papa and maman will are probably already searching for me." She hesitates for a moment and then adds few more words.

" I have to thank you for ze nice memory 'arry."

"You are welcome, mademoiselle." She walks away, her long Victorian-like dress swaying lightly in the breeze.

Black swans of Cote d'Azur, rare magical birds which are exclusively monogamous. Their song reeks of sadness that belongs to the fly trapped in the spider's web.

I have given her something none of them can resist- a kindred spirit. It is never boring to play a little game and I am so close to victory in this one. I let her walk away, her hair loose and shining beautifully as the ones of a glass princess that had never been. I can still feel her lips on my own. One must not forget his goals. I use my handkerchief to wipe her taste away.

* * *

I owe no favours, I have no creditors. This is the law of the world- weak and indebted shall pay for their foolishness. It comes as no surprise that you can see me outside the Gringott's. I am here on behalf of the Ministry; of course none of those bureaucratic clowns knows anything.

I pass through the golden gate and Am given a scrutinizing look by one of the guards.

"Lord Potter-Black of Wizegamot, I am here to speak with Tribal Chief Gladrag." I let the minions to scatter and patiently wait in the golden lobby with those boring red carpets. The goblin I am about to meet is the biggest bastard of them all. This creature has everyone whom he pays to be assassinated written down as an 'outsourcing expenses' in his account books. I clap with a cane I conjured prior to the entry into this institution. People always get nervous if they think that someone, who they consider as important figure, is impatient from all that waiting they put him through.

"Chief will meet you, lordaye."

I am escorted by four heavily armed guards who are grinning as if the Christmas came early this year. I believe this is the point I should call for my mother. Shame that she is dead and I was on a toilet already, I hate to disappoint.

If you wondered why goblins never ruled wizards, this is the place where you can find your answer. Golden walls and red carpet, really, it is all about imagination and adaptability. Yes, some of us are spineless bastard that turn with every wind.

"Lordaye Potter-Black, welcome to the Gringott's bank."

"Chief Gladrag, may you gold multiply and bring you a good profit."

"Please, sit down."

"Cofee, tea, Gresknah's firewhisky?"

"Nothing, thank you."

"I'll have some, if you don't mind. I don't really like to deal with all this paperwork you Ministry types bring in."

"I am afraid you have me at the disadvantage, Chief Gladrag; I bring no documents for you." He measures me up, suspicion clearly written in his wrinkly face.

"What do you want then, human? I don't have any time for those games you play at that marble building of yours."

"I am here to confirm some information and get updates on the loan approval process for the Merlin's stadium."

I will not bore you out of your mind with necessary financial terms and take us right to the moment I sought for. Thirty minutes into our talk the situation is very clear. Someone has been borrowing quite excessively and the interest rates on these loans are quickly growing. Gringott's are not that naïve as I thought. They will soon hold the government under their white-collared necks.

"So they have problems with balancing this year's budget?"

"You know I cannot say anything concrete, Undersecretary. It is our politics not to meddle in affairs of wizards and you are not from the Exchequer." I smile reassuringly; I don't think that goblins understand facial expressions. They can lie a lot though.

"Let me rephrase it this way, should we be a bit worried about future of our investments into government shares and what would happen should this distressing uncertainty come to light?"

Gladrag gives me a very terrifying smile.

"Well, it would certainly be something to talk about. Something interesting..."

We both start grinning as we shake hands. You should know by now that is not a good sign for me to grin. The creature wants havoc. He wants dogs of chaos to fall upon us, yet he fails to see a great hammer behind my back. Goblins don't have any imagination. I can nearly smell the smouldering ashes.

* * *

"Something rotten in the state of Ministry affairs? Ministry employee leaks crucial information in an effort to 'take out the trash'? What in the Merlin's name are they playing at? Rogerson!" The Chief Speaker looks at the Minister with fear; I fail to see why.

"I thought that Daily Prophet was supposed to be our people! All that bloody nonsense! It is impossible and I will not have such disobedience. The polls are showing us a twenty percent behind. If we do nothing, we will get stuffed in the next elections which are just six months away! How can I work when I am constantly disrupted by continuous breach of faith, even amongst those that are supposed to be our most trusted allies? I want the bastards who leaked the information to be caught! I want to see them hanged!" Usually mild-mannered Mr. Weasley is red-faced as he shouts around at the members of his cabinet. What a show of excellent leadership! Surprised that I can speak now? Well, it is someone from my department that leaked the information and I am Undersecretary after all.

"Arthur, you shouldn't worry. We will wait and assess the situation..." Rogerson is trying to appease our red-faced leader.

"Assess the situation? That is you advice? May I kindly remind you that we are facing a disaster? We must find this mole before someone gets the hunch about our real financial problems! Anyone else has similarly good advice?" It is the day, the hour, almost the moment. Can you feel it? I mean the opportunity that is passing so conveniently just within the reach.

"Minister, if I may be so bold..." Everyone is staring quite intently, as if they were stricken by the lightning. He is probably tired from these knavish bastards he has to listen to every day.

"Mister Potter the economic issue we discuss here are very complex and I don't think that..." Mr. Weasley interrupts Davis' preaching spiel: "I believe that after so many hours of useless proposals from some of you Undersecretary Potter will have something interesting to say." You can almost hear the 'or', what a frightful and spineless creature that man is. Well, people always get the government they deserve.

"Minister I think we should take a different route. I think we should seize the Gringott's and accuse the Goblins from attempts to topple the wizarding government in order to rebel. No one really likes goblins and their treacherous and violent nature is something we may easily exploit." I throw him a bone and wait for a shower.

"That is completely outrageous Undersecretary. Ruthless, unlawful and..."

"Pretty damn effective, Secretary Granger. I took the liberty of drafting a plan. Such an action would ensure a very good publicity for the government. You would be seen as government that is firm and strong and it would help to solve our economic 'issues'." I push forward a green envelope while the bushy-haired Know-It-All is mumbling something about barbarians.

They don't like it. I never thought they would. You can see the dawning realization in their faces. They maybe finally know that I am the threat. You can see their gazes flying around like a flock of crows, looking for the corpse of mangled cow.

"We cannot do this... They would lock themselves in... It would mean a long and bloody war. Everyone's savings would be threatened and golden stocks would plummet down. We would be bankrupt!" Minister is nearly hysterical.

Granger seems satisfied and since I don't suppose that it is from diddling her sissy husband. I must concur that she believes me beaten.

"That is not entirely true, Minister. You could always issue a bonding statement that would guarantee the savings by a statute made by the government." It takes another three hours before they see something positive about my plan. Of course they go only half-way. One doesn't want to appear too decisive; because that smells of authoritarian politics.

"I think that we all agree that this plan has some merit." You can hear the reluctant mumblings of acknowledgement.

"The problem lies with its extreme execution." Really, timid too much?

"We can reach the same if we try to press Gringott's politically." There is nothing to be said. It is time for me to abandon ship. You maybe wonder why I didn't try to warn them. Well, my intention is to set the government and Wizengamot into deadly hate, one against the other and if Arthur is so good and straightforward as I am devious and unmerciful I shall soon reap the fruit of my endeavours.

Meeting ends and everyone slowly leaves the chamber. I ignore Granger's angry looks and pretend to search through my briefcase, she leaves in a huff. I am left alone with the sweating Minister who is apparently waiting for me. I seal the file with a simple spell, one I invented myself, it serves its purpose, for now. Maybe the man just wants to deliver the long awaited apologies. No, I am not that naive.

"That was very interesting thing you showed us, Harry." This is the last time I allow him to exchange any pleasantries with me.

"Sir, I don't think you fully understood how this plan works, sir." He blinks, apparently surprised by what must seem, from his point of view, as a sudden and unexpected honesty, or cheek.

"Surely you cannot be that vexed about our little changes in your plan. It is thing you deserve full credit for."

"It is not that, sir. I don't believe that with such a compromise we can arrive to a conclusion that is satisfying for us."

"It will turn out all right in the end, my boy. Splendid job as I said, splendid job indeed." There is nothing more to be said. We shake hands.

"Thank you, sir." I leave for the door.

"One more thing

"Can I count on your support in the Wizengamot, Harry?"

"Completely, sir, I firmly stand behind you and this government."

As if- but one cannot always tell everything he wants. I have my wand prepared. Still, time is something of a luxury. But most important things first: Can you hear the wedding bells? No, I suppose not. Well you should. Marriage is a good thing- good for some.

* * *

_Notes: Chief Speaker is a spokesperson for the Ministry and the Cabinet that handles matters of publicity and media._

_I had a little fairy tale reading scene with Harry and Lovegood-Weasley children prepared. Unfortunately, it didn't really fit well. Perhaps I might include it some other time._


End file.
